Tuesday, March 09, 2010

4 Liters of Yum: Timeline

3:53 pm – the Alarm goes off from a very pleasant nap (complete with kitty by my side)
4:00 pm – scramble to drink the first 4 oz glass in the first 10 minutes. By 4:08, already feeling kinda crampy. Yikes. This stuff works fast. Maybe I should move the computer from the kitchen to the bedroom for easier typing/toilet dashing.

4:12 pm – 2nd 8 oz glass, here I come.
4:15 pm downed glass 2 with a shiver. The stuff is somehow like water, and yet like river slime. Not pleasant to drink. Took photo showing how much is 8 oz, and how HOW much more there is too go. The jug mocks me on the kitchen counter. I don’t think I’ll make it to 4:30. Any bets?
4:18. Houston. We have movement. Not much, but I’m sure it’s just the beginning. It’s awful living in fear of your own toilet. I keep telling myself: thinkoflunchthinkoflunchthinkoflunch.
4:20 pm. Incredible! It’s ALREADY 4:20!? I’m so glad. Time for another yummy glass of pre-d (as in pre-disarreha, oh God how can anyone think that this is a good way to lose weight?!) Here goes. Bottom’s up.

4:26. 3rd glass “down.” As in, maybeIwon’tbeabletoKEEPthisdown. Nothing like nausea-inducing waves of near-puking to make you want more. Yes more. The photo is the 4th glass full, and the jug still leering at me like a whore with v.d. c’monbabyyouknowyouwantsome.

4:29 pm. 4:30 is SO far away. Maybe I’ll do some gardening. Or Taxes! Yeah. Taxes! Anything to take my mind off of this. But wait a second! I made it to 4:30 without Niagara coming out my rear. What’s going on. When will it hit? What will happen then?
4:31 pm. A slight knife-edge turn in the gut. Maybe more of a fork tine. But something is happening down there. I’m so glad my houseguests from France are out for the day. And that no one else is coming over. And I can turn the heat up to 80 degrees if I want to.
4:32. Going for it. Glass number 4. Oh God. Involuntary salivating. As in pre-vomit salivating. I am halfway through glass #4 and it’s winning. Though they advised heavily against it on the packaging, I’ll have to judiciously sip. Ahh, the cocktail of colon cleansers: Golytely. Back to the sink incase I do actually have to throw up.
4:37 pm. Wild parrots fly over-head, squawking their little green lungs out. God I wish I were one of them.
4:42 pm. I can’t do it. My hand puts down the glass after each sip. And I’m barely able to get it down without really almost spewing it all back up. And that’s 3 and half glasses I’m not going to RE-drink. So down it stays. The directions do SAY “drink until all 4 liters are consumed, or until effluent is clear.” I didn’t know I could be put in the same categories as the Amazon and the Orinoco, but here goes. Now I say I won’t make it to 5 pm without my very own rush hour. I’m distracting myself with CNN and Yahoo News. Go Katheyn Bigelow. Heh…heh…
4:52 pm. Glass 4 is waiting. Waiting. And now glass 5 is behind it. I’m busy watching SNL clips on Hulu, and praying for ‘clear effluent.’ It’s like rolling intestinal dice at medical Vegas: C’mon clear-effluvient!!!!
5:01 pm. Ok, so clearly Vegas-style betting is not my strong suit. And maybe I have to “drink” more of the “liquid” over there. Way over there on the counter. Across the kitchen where it belongs. OhGoddon’tloseyourhealthit’sallyou’vegot.
5:27. Nothing. Well, something. But nothing significant. Perhaps I will have to drink more. Oh God in Heaven No Please Don’t Make Me Drink More.
6:09 pm. Have downed the rest of the 4th glass. Something, but not the Promised River. Am going to prep clothes for tomorrow. The 5th glass is waiting. There has GOT to be a more pleasant way to do this. Like maybe several days of starvation instead.
7:00 pm. Though I texted them, my housguests are back, and I’m not quite “ready.” The word “ready” in this instance means “empty.” So while chitchatting about their tourtisting down the tacky Hollywood Boulevard, Beverly Hills, and beyond, I’m wondering Will I suddenly explode during this conversation?’
7:`5 pm. I drive from my place to Luis downtown, the entire time wondering, Will I get pulled over, and explode during sobriety tests? Or Will I make it to the apartment building only to let loose in the elevator as it lurches skyward?
8:00 to 11:30 pm. Two more delicious glasses of Holly Golytely await me. Yes, I brought the jug with me! I wouldn’t want to go anywhere without it! Finally, around 9pm, what I’d started involuntarily chugging at 4pm finally started to become that magical word “effluent.” Sometimes it was worthy of launch-pad metaphors. When the body wants to get rid of something, there’s really no stopping it.
It’s now 6:21 am the Day of the Procedure. I’m completely empty and ready for lunch. Forget determining what is the source of my problem, I’m starving!
It’s now 6:21 am the Day of the Procedure. I’m completely empty and ready for lunch. Forget determining what is the source of my problem, I’m starving!
6:32 am. We will leave any minute to to go the Tower Imaging Center on Wilshire. My favorite part? Talking to the gorgeous anethestesiologist while I'm still on drugs so I say embarrassing things like, 'you're MY McDreamy!"
And when I get my pictures, I’ll be sure post them (blame Christy).
Now get back to your books.

Monday, March 08, 2010

4 Liters of Yum

The thought of drinking 8 oz of fluid every ten minutes until this 4-liter container is empty is enough to make me sick.

Which is why I'm drinking the stuff in the first place. I'm having a "procedure." The kind where they put you "under." It's for "Colitis". Inflamation of the... (insert high school Latin here). They're not sure why the "itis" is happening, but it was enough for an emergency MRI. What a joy that was. Nothing like an early morning enema on a sore bowel to get the day started. Then my doctor scheduled a colonoscopy for a week later, and antibiotics to calm the area down. Calm it down from what? Nuts & Seeds? Lactose intolerance? Cancer?

All I know is that the instructions for this Golytely (don't you just love the clever Audrey Hepburn-esque product name?) will make me trot to the toilet like a race horse, and I'm not allowed to eat anything after taking it. Until TOMORROW AT LUNCH! And the fear of all that "evacuation" is making me not want to eat today. So over 24 hours fasting and boy do I have an appreciation for all things illness related. We really do only have our health.

It's incredible how thin a line separates us from feeling good, or from even feeling normal. Go without drinking water half the day and see how you feel. Try skipping food for more than 8 hours. Now imagine that this is a state in which much of the world lives for a lot of the time and it really puts a new perspective on things.

I keep wanting to be productive, or use the down time productively, but all I can wonder is 'what is it?' 'Will they find something?' 'Will they find nothing?' and more importantly, 'What am I going to eat after I wake up when the procedure is done?' (I have a sneaking suspicion it will involve the Girl Scout cookies that I bought.)

Stay tuned.
In the mean time, get back to your books!